| Everybody Loves An Underdog, But Puppies Grow
I have a tendency to put things off - things that are important to me, that is. Letting other people's priorities take precedence over my own has become an entrenched habit. So I shouldn't have been surprised when Del Miller inadvertently 'stole' part of the topic I intended to write about (see Abacus column at Applelinks, January 29 ... gee, that long ago huh). Del assured me that he, too, had been a victim of PETI - 'Pre-emptive theft of intellectual property' (strictly speaking, that should be PETIP, but it's so clever I'll let it pass), or 'Procrastination eventually trashes ideas.' Good one Del! That makes me feel a whole lot better.
Undeterred, I decided to continue with my story. Chances are I will NEVER write about a topic nobody else has covered. I might even specialise in commenting on other writers' comments - that would save me a lot of time pondering over what I'm going to write about next.
But let's get on with the story ...
The time is 9.30am on 31st December 1999. I'm facing two whole days away from my Mac and email. A scary thought - but I've done it before and, with the grace of God, I can do it again.
For the 10th year in a row Colin and I set off for the Woodford Folk Festival. It wasn't always in Woodford, it started in 1987 in Maleny, when it was called, not surprisingly, the Maleny Folk Festival. About 5 years ago it outgrew Maleny, and the Queensland Folk Federation bought 100 hectares of land near Woodford to provide a permanent home for the Festival. This was a courageous move that put them seriously in the red.
This year we notice there are 'official' road signs marking the exits from the Sunshine Coast highway. Woodford Festival is here to stay.
We drive through the lush farming land around Caboolture and Wamuran and presently the road starts to climb. En route we muse on the possibility of making Woodford our home at some time in the not-too-distant future. We would need to make a few life changes to do this, but we are in fantasy mode so anything is possible. You see, we'd really like to spend the whole 6 days at the Festival instead of our customary 2, but we have never been able to face the prospect of camping in sweltering heat, with the possibility of tropical downpours, and being unable to sleep on account of the all-night jam sessions. I'm a person who has severe limitations when it comes to 'roughing it'.
As we come into Woodford (which is looking better every year) we pull over and get out of the Honda to look into a Real Estate window. Mmm... a house on 10 hectares with a creek and fruit trees ... a mere $90,000 (AUS). There are others equally inviting. If we sold our house in Brisbane and bought here we'd even have money left over. Better look into those life changes.
Woodford is a small town, in a picturesque pastoral setting, surrounded by rolling hills, with views to the Glasshouse Mountains if you pick your spot. A mere one hour's drive from Brisbane, and the same from the Sunshine Coast, it is well situated. Woodford's main claims to fame are the Festival and its proximity to a high security prison. Colin considers the latter to be a distinct disadvantage, but I say any prison escapees would quickly put as much distance between themselves and Woodford as they could ... unless they were smart and figured that's just what everyone would expect - I wish I hadn't thought of that. Anyway, there are undoubtedly more criminals outside prison than in (but probably not in Woodford). And a person is more at risk crossing the road (but probably not in Woodford).
 We get back in the car and head for the Festival site. The layout is slightly different from the previous year, and we are able to park nearer to the entrance gates. No long queues either ... first time ever, despite increased numbers. We're impressed. Enthusiastic young people take our money and fasten bracelets around our wrists, assuring us we'll have a wonderful time. We say we know - we're regulars (thinking that somehow they ought to know).
 The Festival has always relied heavily on volunteer labour. The bracelet-fasteners are volunteers. They give 4+ hours per day in exchange for a festival pass and free tent accommodation. The money-takers, who operate computers, receive some payment.
We start the longish walk from the ticket gates to the main Festival entrance. This has the feel of a pilgrimage - the highlight of our year. If you're a fan of folk music, jazz and blues, world music, country rock, or anything in between, the Woodford Festival is the place to be. Woodford has a palpable spirit. As on previous occasions, I marvel at the variety of people. 'Different' is all around us - young hippies, old hippies, non-hippies, people who don't know what hippies are. This is a place where all are joined in an atmosphere of tolerance by their love of music. Children don't cry, people wait patiently in queues, drunks are well-behaved and unobtrusive. This is a safe place. And a place where minds are stretched.
Once inside, we scan our program. The choice is overwhelming. I'm faced with the usual dilemma ... catch up with old favourites, investigate the vast number of new performers, or maybe take part in a workshop or two. Making a choice in favour of one means missing something else. I reflect briefly on the fact that I'm always overly concerned with what I might be missing - which makes it difficult for me to fully focus on what I'm experiencing.
 I put pink highlighter around the 'must not miss' acts and less emphatic marks next to the merely 'promising'. I observe that I'm being conservative. Even though I've seen them many times before, I refuse to miss Margret Roadknight (jazz/blues singer extraordinaire ... my favourite female singer IN THE WHOLE WORLD), Sirocco ('world music' group that plays THE most exciting instrumental music I've ever heard, led by the amazing Bill O'Toole, whom my husband knows I would run away with if he'd only ask), and the delightful Bernard Carney and Peter Grayling from Perth, Western Australia.
Peter is a cellist who performs classical, folk, jazz and rock with equal virtuosity. Bernard is a folk singer-songwriter with a strong leaning towards the blues - the only performer I encountered at the Festival who used computers and the Internet as an ingredient in his songs. Part of his witty 'Little Dot Com' is reproduced, with permission, below:
She is my little dot com
She turns my hard drive on
She has the software that i need
And i'm taking a risk
That there's room on her disk for me
She is my little dot com
I don't know where she's from
But if her motherboard allows
When she gives me the wink
Then i'll click on her link and browse
I get random access to her web address
She has the laptop for my downloads
She's digitally desirous
Never had a virus
She knows i've got the plug ins
To crack her codes ...
... all delivered with sophisticated facial innuendo in a voice that is warm and smooth, with just the right touch of roughness around the edges. If you're interested, the song will be on a forthcoming CD, soon available via Bernard's web site.
 Yearly, the Festival is becoming bigger and more 'professional'. It is beginning to 'prosper'. Gone are the mobile toilets, now replaced by simple, attractive permanent structures; the thousands of trees planted by volunteers have grown; the whole site looks more 'settled'.
 Although it still relies predominantly on volunteers, the numbers of paid staff are growing. And this year, we heard repeated appeals for volunteers. Could it be that, now that the Festival has 'grown up' people are expecting more, becoming more critical, and less inclined to volunteer their services? I'm not in the inner circle, so I am not privy to all that has been going on, but I've heard a few grumblings, yearnings for the 'good old days' before the Festival became more professional and - dirty word - commercial. Nowadays it's attracting some people who know nothing about folk music, and some other people don't like it!
The Woodford Festival is moving on to bigger and, hopefully, better things. In the process some good things will be lost. The 'old guard' will have to accept the changes, while at the same time working to ensure the precious Woodford spirit survives.
And so it is with Apple.
You are all smart enough to apply the analogy.
As Eolake Stobblehouse said when I was musing on the discontent with Apple's new direction - 'Everybody loves an underdog. But puppies grow.'
Apple is growing up, and not everybody likes that. The Mac 'Community' (whatever that may mean) is in disarray.
I'm not sure that all the accusations of bad behaviour from the invigorated, more powerful Apple Computer Inc. are completely justified. Has Apple's behaviour really changed, or have we just taken off our rose-coloured glasses?
Apple has never fully appreciated or taken advantage of its extraordinary army of volunteer evangelists. It has certainly never 'rewarded' them as Woodford Festival has its volunteers. This has always surprised me. You'd think they would have given us 'frequent buyer' points or something, or at the very least issued us with T-shirts and declared a worldwide 'think different' day - to honour both the Macintosh and its devotees. But perhaps I'm being unfair - I have to admit I've attended some great Apple parties and seasonal 'update' functions where the food is great, the presenters entertaining, and the 'showbags' classy.
Nevertheless, I do feel we 'pioneers' have been taken for granted. We've been faithful for a long time. We formed a community of the 'different' long before it became fashionable.
Apple and the Macintosh have not only survived - they are thriving. A vast contingent of new MacUsers has been seduced by the Apple 'magic'. And suddenly, we're not so 'different' any more.
I'm not sure where I fit into all this. I'm a person who finds change exciting, while being strangely slow to embrace it. I love the new Macs, I love the colours. I haven't experienced Aqua yet, but I'm prepared to love that too. Yet I have reservations ... and I've been a little disturbed by the tremblings of Macintosh diehards.
On the one hand, what we've always wanted has come about. There's no longer the threat of losing our beloved Macintosh. Hell ... even one of the tech guys at work was overheard the other day saying, somewhat proudly, that he was becoming 'Mac-literate'! But on the other hand, now that it's here, we're not sure how to handle ongoing success.
As the Macintosh community grows larger, and less cohesive, there is a danger that the legendary Macintosh spirit will fade. That would be a shame. I hope we're up to the challenge and (to continue Eolake's metaphor) don't slink away whining with our tails between our legs.
- Carmel Glover |
